


Texas Love N' Care

by MLMDarkFiction



Category: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies)
Genre: Comfort, Gen, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-31 00:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19038637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MLMDarkFiction/pseuds/MLMDarkFiction
Summary: A gift for someone on tumblr who hasn't been feeling very good. I hope you feel better soon hun! <3





	Texas Love N' Care

It’s a bad day. They come and they go, and all you want to do today is curl up in bed and cry. Bubba and Chop were both out by the time you had awoken, and both thankfully and surprisingly Drayton left you alone. Everyone in the family had a part to play, including you, and usually he was adament about you doing your part, even on your worst of days.

The silence is short lived however, a slam from the front door followed by laughing and the familiar sound of Bubba’s grunts and groans let you know he and Choptop were home. You consider going downstairs. Some time with the family, and with your man, might make you feel better. You’re just rising off the bed when you hear the telltale sounds of Drayton loosing his temper, the broom hitting the wall, Bubba’s panicked wails, and Paul’s cackled laughter before the telltale sounds of footsteps on the stairs.

Bubba’s heading down to the basement, and Paul’s heading up to you.

“And stay up there until dinner’s done! I swear to god if either of you comes into the kitchen I’ll beat you blue!”

It’s not uncommon phrase to hear, so you simply roll your eyes, laying back in bed. You’re curious though, it’s hard to tell what the two of them did to get Drayton so mad as soon as they walked in the door. Likely left a mess.

“H-Hey sweetc-cheeks.”

The familiar chittering voice of your husband greet you. You role over, groaning slightly, glancing at him in the doorway to your bedroom. Ah yes, now you see why exactly it is that Drayton was pissed.

Paul is dirty. Beyond dirty. Mud stains his pants and shoes, and there’s blood staining his shirt sleeves.

  
“Babe?”

He flops onto the bed onto his knees, weight dipping the bed, and causing you to slowly slide towards him. Finally you turn to face him, partially because the whine in his voice is hard to ignore, partially because you’re worried about the mess he’ll leave on the sheets. Choptop’s not the type to think through things like that.

But by looking at him you’ve exposed your red, tear stained face, and opened his floodgates of worry.

“What’s wrong?” He sounds panicked, one hand going to cup your face, the other nervously scratching at his plate with his nails. You’re quick to intercept the action with your own hand, laicing your fingers with his and distracting him. You may feel bad, but you’re not about to let him hurt himself by scratching his plate do to anxiety.

“D-Did Drayton say-say somethin’ to ya?”

His hand twitches in your own, his other hand cupping your face, wiping at your heated cheeks with a thumb.

“No, no. Drayton didn’t do nothing.”

This does little to comfort Choptop though. Even if Drayton was innocent, that doesn’t change the fact that something /had/ happened to upset you. You squeeze his shaky hand in yours.

“Just a bad day,” You tell him, “just a bad day,” you repeat again.

It seems to be enough to finally convince him. He relaxes, if just a bit, and stops twitching (well as much as he can.) Instead he pulls you close to him in a tight hug, you cringe at the all to familiar feeling of sticky cooling blood seeping from his clothing to yours, and gives you a kiss on the forehead.

He seems to perk up, excited, and hops off the bed.

“Stay-Stay here.”

He holds up one finger in a ‘wait’ gesture before leaving.

You wait patietly, sitting on the bed, and folding your legs under yourself. It’s odd. Just spending time with Paul already has you feeling a bit better. Sometimes all you need is some TLC from someone you love to get out of the blues.

It’s not long until you hear a perculiar sound. The attempted strumming of a guitar. It’s something Choptop had coveted from a victim about a week ago, and although he hadn’t actually been practicing with it, you knew he liked having it around.

So here he comes, attempting to serenade you with his voice and the guitar.

As much as you love him, even you can’t pretend that it sounds good. Choptop doesn’t know what he’s doing, both with his voice and with the guitar. Painful playing and singing aside though…the gesture is sweet.

You only make it halfway through his rendition of “I Got You Babe” by Sonny and Cher, before you get up and stop him. He can’t sing if you kiss him, and Choptop quickly learns this too shutting up to appreciate the feeling of your lips on his.

He's grinning against your lips, and this is confirmed when you pull away. He's always like this when you kiss him, especially if you're the one who initiated it, giddy, smiling, as if he can't believe it's real. It's adorable and you love it, you love him.

"Did-Did my singing cheer you up swe-sweet thing?"

"Yeah Paul, yeah it did."

He really did. Sometimes all you need to cheer yourself up is time with the people you love, and obvious declarations of affection and care. Feeling better, still, you click your tongue when you notice the mud and blood on both the floor of your room, the sheets, and your own clothes now.

"Alright, we both need to get out of thee stained clothes and into something a little more comfortable~"

"Do you mean?-"

"Come on! Out of those pants!"


End file.
